


There Are Moments That The Words Don’t Reach

by transfoggy (tranzgrantaire)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Graphic Descriptions of blood, Hurt Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Barisi, Stabbing, Surgical Talk, Whump, probably inaccurate medical talk, this wont be very long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 11:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18737995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tranzgrantaire/pseuds/transfoggy
Summary: Sonny reaches out and barely grazes the guy’s jacket. He’s sweating and panting and he wishes he wasn’t wearing this damn vest.The man turns quickly around a corner and Sonny doesn’t even think, he just turns with him. The April sun glints off the knife and time stops.





	There Are Moments That The Words Don’t Reach

The first thing Sonny hears when he wakes up is Rafael screaming, and with the amount of drugs his body is adjusting to he’s briefly convinced that Rafael has somehow gotten hurt too. Sonny registers a few second later that Rafael isn’t screaming, he’s yelling; his hand is on Sonny’s head before someone pushes him out of the way. Just as he goes to open his mouth he feels something sting in the crook of his arm, and somehow it hurts worse than the indescribable pressure in his stomach. His vision goes black again, but this time he’s comforted to know his husband is there to take care of everything: he can rest. _He can rest..._

 

*

 

Sonny is prideful in his ability to chase down suspects. He played basketball in high school, he can run, but God in heaven if this guy isn’t seriously pushing Sonny’s limits.

 

Amanda is at least a block behind him, yelling something into her walkie, her boots resounding on the pavement. Sonny shouts for what feels like the thousandth time, “Stop! Police!” Sonny reaches out and barely grazes the guy’s jacket. He’s sweating and panting and he wishes he wasn’t wearing this damn vest.

 

The man turns quickly around a corner and Sonny doesn’t even think, he just turns with him. The April sun glints off the knife and time stops.

 

*

 

Rafael has been crying for ten minutes straight and he bitterly thinks his body is trying to make up for the years since he last cried. He shed a few tears when Sonny proposed, a few more at their wedding, but he hasn’t thought he was gonna throw up from sobbing since high school.

 

Rafael forces himself to stare straight at the doors that lead to the operating theatre: if he looks down he’ll see his husband’s blood all over his hands and clothes. It’s all dried now, it’s been two hours since a doctor has told him anything, and the longer he waits the more scared he becomes.

 

His throat hurts from screaming it raw in the hospital parking lot. He cursed himself, the suspect, Amanda, Liv. All people he blamed for the love of his life being hurt.

 

The first person he blames is Amanda, the person who was supposed to be Sonny’s partner, who was supposed to be there when things like this happened. He blamed Liv, for sending two detectives after a suspect with no backup, a suspect who they knew was dangerous.

 

He blamed himself for somehow not being able to know the future, for not pulling Sonny back into bed with him this morning. It was his day off, he could’ve convinced Sonny to take a sick day if he really tried. In the back of his brain he knows he couldn’t, Sonny loves his job, and he knew Sonny wouldn’t just fall back into bed when they had a case. It still doesn’t stop the twisted thoughts in his head.

 

He blames the suspect, now, the only person really deserving of blame, even if Rafael gave Amanda the lecture of her life, once in english and once in his first language because his brain couldn’t process his anger fast enough. Rollins couldn’t understand a word but the tone sounded brutal enough. Still, he wasn’t going to apologize and no one expected him to.

 

The suspect was some twenty something piece of work who was suspected of three rapes in the last month: If Rafael had to place his blame on anyone it was the man who had… had...

 

*

 

Sonny had been through this before, everything stopping for a few blissful seconds before whatever shit show is about to go down begins. It happened when Lieu shot Tom Cole’s blood all over his face, the first day he was sure he’d die.

 

Sonny gets to see the knife before it disappears into his stomach, it’s a small hunting knife, serrated. Sonny swears before God he could feel each notch as it tore into him. It stings, it burns and he can’t even make a sound because he can’t breathe. The guy gets him once, the next one hitting his vest, and by then Rollins is coming up behind them and the guy bolts, Sonny can’t speak, he can’t warn her, she’s already a block away, probably thinks the guy just punched Sonny in the stomach.

 

 _Not her fault_ , Sonny thinks. He falls forward, on his knees and one hand, the other trying to reach for his walkie. He barely manages to get it out of the holder before his arm gives out and his forehead smacks against the pavement. He’s making noises now: he can’t hear them, all he hears is static, and the faint, disgusting sound of blood streaming onto the sidewalk. He somehow manages to get on his back, but his hands are sticky and his finger misses the button on his walkie twice.

 

Finally it crackles to life, “Officer down!” His hearing comes back to hear a scream he doesn’t recognize coming out of his throat, followed by a cry. He forgets everything he’s ever learned and there’s tears running into his hair and he chokes out into the walkie.

 

“Help me, please.”

 

*

 

A hand touches his shoulder and Rafael almost screams; it’s been going on three hours and he hasn’t heard anything from the doctors or nurses. He’s never been this on edge in his life.

 

Its Liv, holding a bag, one he had asked her to get out of his car. It’s just a few changes of clothes, Sonny had talked him into it. He thanks her quickly, rushing to the nearest washroom to change, his eyes welling up again as he thought about the morning he and Sonny had packed this bag.

 

*

 

_“Why do we need clothes in our trunk?” Rafael asked one saturday morning, lounging in bed with a cup of coffee and watching Sonny roll up a few pairs of joggers, tshirts and underwear, sitting them neatly in an old backpack._

 

_“Because what if something happens and we need a change of clothes?” Sonny asked, like it was the most simple rhetorical question in the world. Rafael rolled his eyes before setting his coffee on the nightstand, heading to the dresser and pulling out his own casual clothes. He tossed them at Sonny to pack inside._

 

_Rafael smiled to himself and got back into bed, picking up his lukewarm coffee._

_“Okay, very funny.” Sonny said, a slight flush on his cheeks, holding a pair of lacy red panties._

_Rafael shrugged, eyes sparkling._

 

_“What if you need them, my love?” he asked, taking a sip. Sonny rolled his eyes, folding the tiny garment and hiding it in the middle of one of his rolled up shirts, adding Rafael’s now rolled up clothes beside them._

 

_“For real though, it just makes me feel better to know that if something bad ever happens we won’t have to worry about clothes. We’ll both have some.” Sonny zipped the bag up and snagged the keys to their car off the dresser._

 

_“Hey, wait! Wait, wait!” Rafael said not moving from his spot on the bed, mug still cradled in his hands. Sonny whipped his head back around. “What?” Sonny asked, his face relaxing once he saw Rafael, one hand outstretched toward him, frowning._

 

_“Alright, i’m comin’, i’m comin’” Sonny breathed a laugh, sitting the bag down to walk over to Rafael’s side of the bed and kiss the frown off his face._

_“Happy now?” Sonny asked, pulling a piece of fluff out of Rafael’s hair, thinking briefly about how this is exactly what he thought marriage would be._

 

_“The happiest.” Rafael answered, holding his husband’s gaze for a moment. “I love you.” he said, watching the sweet smile Sonny wore just for him._

_“I love you too, Rafi.”_

 

_*_

 

Rafael checks his watch: it’s been four hours and 34 minutes. People have been telling him to sit down in the waiting room for just as long, but he’s declined each time. He needs to stand here, eyes on the door, ready.

 

Just as Liv is begging him to come sit down a tired looking doctor comes out of the double door that have been seared into Rafael’s mind. She spots Rafael and walks toward him. He blindly grabs for Liv’s hand, she squeezes back just as hard, his eyes are welling up again.

 

“Are you Dominick Carisi’s family?” She asks softly, carefully. Rafael almost yells again.

“Yes, I’m his husband.” He gets out before he can start asking the millions of question flitting through his head. She smiles softly.

 

“Dominick was in surgery for four hours, he has massive internal bleeding and the knife nicked an artery.” She starts, speaking carefully and keeping her face neutral. Rafael is shaking, sure he’s going to throw up. Why isn’t she saying if he’s okay? Is he dead? Is he dead? Dear God please don’t let him be dead.

 

“We were able to stop the bleeding and perform a transfusion. He’s going to be okay.” She finishes.

Rafael is crying again as he nods. “Can I see him?” He asks before she can walk away. She nods.

“I’ll send a nurse to take you the ICU.”   
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> yo, this is my first svu fic, i love hurt comfort fics and hurt sonny is my entire aesthetic. married barisi bc its canon.
> 
> kudos/comments give me 10+ hp and are highly appreciated ˚✧₊


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